Locien Daughter of Elessar
by Hiril Abbess
Summary: Once in a tale, there lived a young princess. The Child of Light, they called her. She was loved and adored by all. But all it took, was one dark night. That radiance was shattered. She was The Child of Light no more.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first attempt at a Fanfic of any kind. I'm more comfortable with writing my own characters. Who are set in my own made-up world. But writing this story has been fun. I hope you guys like it. Please let me know what you think. I'm open for criticism.

Also, I do not own, The Lord of The Rings. But I do own Locien and a few others.

* * *

><p>It was not very hard was it? To believe, that she could actually be his daughter. His flesh and blood. She may not look like anything but a ragged farm boy. But she had his chin. And she believed they had the same fighting spirit. For why else would they both be alive and well in this moment.<p>

She wished she could say, she looked like her mother. But nay, it was not meant to be. Also she certainly did not inherit the Elvin grace. When queen Arwen walked, it was as if she glided through the clouds above. Even if she had given up her immortality; she still seemed as if she kept company with the stars.

Her attention shifted back to Elessar. Withholding the urge to jump, she stilled, forcing herself not to flee. Estel, Strider, Thorongil,Aragorn, Elessar Telcontar, The king of Minas Tirith. His eyes were staring into her honey brown orbs. At times the gold in her eyes would bleed more fiercely then the brown. She hoped this was not one of those times.

'Walk away.' she begged silently. 'Do not take notice of me.' Being out on the lower levels of Minas Tirith; she had thought herself safe to watch them. There was far too much going on, for them to notice her watching. Or so she had thought.

But The King did not heed to her silent pleadings. He, as well as his love, came to stand in front of the dirty, ragged, and all too skinny boy, that was really a girl.

She knew what she was supposed to do. But that didn't make it any less loathsome. She fell upon her knees, bowing her forehead so low it touched the ground. She urged her body into a slight shake. She played her part perfectly.

"Child, rise." His voice was calm, almost smooth. It had dark timber to it. She wondered what it would have been like, to grow up to such a voice. Teaching her how to wield a blade. Or tell her stories of his travels, by her bedside at night. Her brother was very lucky.

Hesitating for a moment, she slowly raised herself from the ground. But kept her head down.

A large hand fell upon her shoulder. She swung her head up as soon as it did. He was smiling at her.

"Young one, what is your name?"

She bothered not, to guise her voice. It already sounded quite masculine. "Drago, son of Eugene."

"Your name suits you. Drago, son of Eugene." He removed his hand from her shoulder. Setting it instead, around his wife's waist.

"And how old are you Drago?" it was her mother that spoke this time and it gave her quite a start.

"But fifteen winters, Lady-Queen." Her mother's voice was so very different from her fathers. It was light and unexplainable. For it seemed as if, it was made of magic.

"My," there was laughter in her voice. "And so very well learned for only fifteen winters."

"My queen?" The child known as Drago, cocked her head in wonder.

"Why just yesterday I saw you reading in the stables. And if I'm not mistaken the language was Sindarin."

Drago could feel her cheeks turn red. Oh Valar, how could she let herself be caught! "I like to pretend I understand the language. It is a lovely way of writing. I cannot actually read it." she looked to the floor in embarrassment.

"Regardless young Drago, Curiosity is how we learn. One day, if you try hard enough. I am sure you will come to know of the language of the elves."

"You are kind, King." she murmured bowing her head.

" Drago, I have seen the horse that you rode in upon a fortnight ago." Drago felt the color drain from her face. He had been watching her. "I wonder where it comes from. It's a fine horse. Though it looks different than any I have seen."

"I do not know much more then thee, King Elessar. He was a present for my birth celebration."

"A fine present. Your father must love you much, young Drago."

He clapped his hand on her shoulder once more. And then, He and his queen walked away, back to their previous proceedings.

Drago then decided, it was time to finally retrieve what she had come for. She could not afford to stay a moment longer. She had seen the brooch on him. The Elfstone. She had memorized the seventh level, knew where the kings house was. Knew every room, knew every secret passage, and knew that Elessar left the brooch in his room, when at private dinner with friends. And such friends, had rode in naught but two days ago.

'Father, soon you will have a war on your hands. And the elves will wish they hadn't left when they had. For this is their war, and not mans.'

Sighing, Drago picked up her bag and made her way to the sixth level stables, to wait for evening to come.

* * *

><p>Once again, let me know what you think... That means review. :P<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own, The Lord of The Rings. But I do own Locien and a few others.

Ok I went through this chapter and realized I got a lot of things wrong with info about middle earth and stuff. So I went through and redid some of it.

* * *

><p>Legolas Greenleaf found himself marveling, at how the Master Dwarf walking beside him, had become such a dear friend. His peers always asked, why he kept company with a dwarf. To Legolas, it wasn't very hard to understand. They had fought in a war together. And not just any war. It had been a scarring war. A war that had taxed all of the fellowship. Legolas didn't think any of them were the same as they had been, before they took their journey.<p>

Well, except for the dwarf beside him. The Elf smiled as Gimli interceded a passing servant. Breaking him from his thoughts.

"Young Lass!" The old dwarf boomed.

The female servant stopped and turned, at his abrasive call. Not seeming to mind Gimli's lack of fragility in the least.

"Sirs." She curtsied and looked toward Gimli. Humor adorning her outlandish, face.

"Dear lady." His voice was now, much more suited for the royal halls. "By chance, do you know what will be served at this private feast we are to attend?" his voice lowered toward end. As if embarrassed by his obsession with food. Or maybe thinking private meant, keeping the feast a secrect.

Legolas raised a brow. So did the amused servant.

"Well my good sir…" she put her hand to her chin and looked toward the ceiling. As if, hard at thought. "I believe I saw manchet, currant cake, caboges, salted pork, smoked herring, amygdalate. (Which is a favorite of mine.) Chireseye pudding, and beef stew. She smiled, as Gimli remembered to close his mouth. I'm sure that there is more. And I am very sure that the feast begins in only a few short moments. Should I escort you to the feasting hall?

"No need." Legolas finally spoke. "We have traveled these halls before. Please return to your duties."

"Yes!" boomed Gimli. Then remembering where he was, lowered his voice. "Yes, we shall be fine. Thank you lass."

Her gaze went from him to Gimli. Then back to him. Legalos couldn't help but notice her brown eyes where bleeding gold. She smiled, curtsied and left.

"Why is it," murmured Legolas to Gimli. "that I feel a strange foreboding?" his gaze was fastened on the previously departed servant. Still walking down the hall.

"You elves!" Gimli snorted "The lot of you are paranoid! Now come along Princeling, I want my food. Especially some of that smoked herring."

Legolas shook his head, and followed his close friend to the feasting hall.

...

Drago slowly made her way through the halls of The Kings House. She had tied her golden hair in a plain fashion. Too short, to do much else. The servant clothes she wore helped her to blend in easily.

The lost princess of Minas Tirith, stuck to the shadows. Focusing on not getting caught. If she did, she had only to act like a servant. But she would rather not.

Listening for footsteps, Drago silently peaked around the corner. And there was the royal bedroom, guarded by two men. She had expected this. Had felt them before she saw them. She didn't remember any guards in the King's House when she was a child. She wasn't surprised though. Why not put guards in after your youngest had been stolen away. Though, it was a little late.

The intruder opened the small sackcloth pouch, tied around her waist. Drago stuck her hand in, coming out with half a handful of sand.

That would be more than enough. Anymore might kill them. Tightening her pouch, she hid her hand behind her back, and rounded the corner. Instantaneously the guards honed in on the blonde. Hands on the hilt of their swords.

"Um…" Drago bit her lip and Looked at them, from beneath her lashes. Water began to form in her eyes. This was done with practiced ease. "Forgive me, sirs-lords. I seem to be so terribly lost." A tear slid down her cheek.

The men instantly came to her. Their suspicions forgotten at seeing her tears. Good bred men were easy to fool. She was sad that it was so. But nothing could be done about it. She had a quest that needed to be finished.

As the men came close enough, Drago took her chance and threw the sand at them. Both men were on the floor before they could react. Crouching down Drago checked their pulses and kissed each on the cheek. "Sleep well, dear good men. Pray that you awake. I will be saying my own prayers for you."

Lifting herself off the floor, she made her way towards the door. She felt a little excitement at being so close to achieving the brooch. But knew even if she attained it she would have to get out unseen. Not just out of the King's House. But Minas Tirith, as well. She was ready to leave this city. It was much too bright. So bright, that at moments it hurt her eyes. She was Drago. She was a dragon. And dragons hated to be in the light for too long.

Drago stopped in front of the door. Cautiously she lifted her hand to the cold wood, closed her eyes and felt. She could feel everything then. She could feel the sleeping guards behind her. She could feel the party in the feasting hall. She could feel her younger sister sleeping just a few doors down, around the corner. A pair of guards at her doorway also.

That had once been her room.

She wondered if they ever thought of her. She was three when she had been taken. How long had they searched for her? How long before they welcomed another child? She would readily admit that she was bitter. She was even slightly jealous of her younger sibling. She wished she could be the one fawned upon by parents and friends of the court. She wanted to know these people more than anything. But she knew she would never fit in. she was a creature tainted by darkness. She would always be. And so the darkness was where she belonged. And so it would always be.

Sighing, Drago focused on the task at hand. Slowly she unlocked the door. It hurt to use her mind in such a way. She wasn't very good at it and hadn't a lot of practice. When the task was finally done, Drago wiped the sweat from her brow and pushed the door open. Lightly stepping into the room Drago swiftly moved from the sitting room to the private chambers. This was where she had felt the brooch to be stored. And there it was, in a locked box. Holding back a groan, the young girl sat on the stone floor to open the box. Less than a minute later the box was open. There sitting inside, with its own purple throne, was Elessar.

"Hello little friend." Drago murmured. "Are you ready for an adventure? Sorry dear stone, but even if you are not, you still must come." the blonde grabbed the brooch and tucked it into her upper under garment. Right in the middle of her breasts. There was no better place to store it. No one would think to look in such a place. She hoped.

Sighing, she quickly made her way out the door and through the halls. Still sticking to the shadows, but much more hastened then before. She had to leave as quickly as she could. For the moment the brooch was found to be gone, the city gates would be closed.

But in that moment, a thought overcame Drago. so swiftly, so strongly, that she paused.

Abruptly turning she made her way back to the hall she had come from. Passing the incapacitated guards, Drago turned the corner coming in contact with another set of guards.

They were guarding Bellethiel's bed chamber.

She smiled as the guards watched her walk toward them. "No one is allowed in the Kings House. You're going to have to leave, Milady."

The imposter disguised as an innocent, curtsied. "Madam Melda sent me to check on the young princess. She's been having nightmares as of late." Drago could only hope that Madam Melda was still a nanny to the children of Elessar.

The guard on the right nodded in understanding. "Very well. If Lady Melda has requested it, then we shan't get in your way."

"Sirs." She curtsied once more, before walking through the open door. After a moment, the door closed behind her.

Drago stared at the lump, on the child sized bed. This was the little sister that she had never met. Maybe it would be better if she left… No, she did not come all this way just to turn and run.

Taking a deep breath, she walked over to the child. "Bellethiel, Darling child." She whispered, lightly shaking her awake.

"Tis not time to wake." Mumbled the child of five.

Drago felt her chest constrict, at her sisters sweet voice. "But I have come from so far away, just to see you, dear sister."

Bellethiel's eyes shot open at this statement. Quickly she sat up, and turned to Drago.

Her eyes were gray, like their father. And she looked so much like mother.

"You're my sister?" Bellethiel whispered.

Drago hummed an affirmative.

"What's your name?"

Drago paused for a moment. "Cala, little one."

"Your hair is so beautiful." Breathed Bellethiel. She reached out as if to touch the golden tresses. Drago leaned her head down to Indulge the child.

"If you're my sister, then where have you been?" Bellethiel's hands were still stroking her head.

"Far away. In a very distant land, young one."

"How far?"

"How about, you lay down. And I will tell you a story. "

"What kind of story?" the young princess was already laying herself down. Pulling up the sheets to her chin.

"Tis a story about a princess and a dragon."

"Was the dragon good?"

"Nay."

…...

Running to the stables, she found a private corner to change in and did so quickly. Making sure all was in place, Drago jumped upon her horse, gray speckled white steed. With a dark gray mane. She spoke to him in Elvin. "Ride swiftly Alagos. But not so, as to draw suspicion." Alagos's right ear had turned forward at his master's command. He pranced for a moment before walking them out of the stables. As they exited the second level, he began to pick up speed. Reaching the great gate, Drago eased Alagos to a halt.

"And what might a young lad be doing, leaving the white city in the dead of night." The guard stared down at her from his perch on the wall.

Drago flashed him a smile! "I's a big brother!" she cried. Her joyous proclamation sounding rather loud, in the still night. "Me Pa lives in Pelennor! Just got his message tonight!"

"Mhmm." The guard stared upon her, contemplatively. "What has your father named your sister, lad?"

Without missing a beat. "Aditi, sir! If you'd like I's got the letter-"

"Don't bother boy." The guard turned and ordered for the gate to be opened. He turned back to Drago as the gate began to move. "You be careful on that road boy. There's still darkness in this world. It always seems to take the innocent first."

And she knew this better than most. "I's be fine sir. Thank you!" she cried, as she rode away into the night.

"Fast, Alagos." She murmured. "You know the way home." Alagos was a mighty steed. He was bred in the desert lands of Haradwaith. He had been given to her as a gift, for passing her initiation. He was the perfect war horse made with speed and stamina far past that of the horses in Rohan. It was only fitting, she supposed. The horses in the desert had to be built better, for the harshness in the land. As harsh as life was in the dessert, Drago preferred it. There was freeness in the dry land that called to her.

"How many days to Harondor?" She could not recall. She knew she would have to stop to rest. But she would hold that off for as long as she could.

Elessar might have his men after her at this moment. It was a funny thought, to see him riding towards her. Thirty of his best men behind him.

She wished he would come after her, not because she had stolen the Elfstone. But, because he had come to a revelation of who she was. She wished… she didn't know what she wished anymore. She was much too old to wish for such things. She was in all actuality, nearing her twentieth winter. And so she would not dwell on the past. She would think of her future. As tiring as it seemed at the moment.

They rode steady as the sun rose, and sunk once again. Finally, when it seemed all the stars were out, Drago pulled them into a clearing. It was off the road, deep within the trees. She could hear a stream nearby and Alagos left her to drink. "Rest my love." She murmured to him as he left. "You have done well this day."

Drago didn't dare start a fire. But she did grab her sleeping role, and also some bread and cheese. Trail food would have to do for now. Though she loathed it so.

Drago was no girl. She fought, hunted, rode, drank, and ate all the food she could fill in her stomach. Though even with all the food she ate, she still looked starved.

When at home among her comrades, she was outgoing and loud. She didn't care how others saw her. And she didn't care to cross her legs. She didn't care for the looks the people gave her. She liked being free. She would do anything to be just that.

Drago looked to the stars. The light they shared hurt. She knew they meant well. They were only watching over her, such as they had with her kin. But she was far beyond the Valar's reach now. "Thank you, for your concern." She murmured anyway. She then laid on her sleeping role, drifting into a light dose.

_She was a child of two again. They were in the courtyard. She was chasing Eldarion around the fountain. Her young legs were slightly unsteady, but strong none the less. "El, El!" she cried, trying to catch up with him. He was thirteen at the time._

_Her beloved brother. _

"_Cal!" He cried, through a laugh. He was enjoying the game more than she. _

_Finally, her younger self decided to stop. Eldarion stopped, and looked at his younger sibling from across the fountain. His rich brown locks were pushed into his face by the wind. He gently pushed them away, setting them back in place. "Why did you stop, Cala?" he stared at her inquisitively. _

"_Because, this game is no fun if I cannot win." She crossed my arms and pouted. _

_Eldarion laughed. As quick as an arrow, he ran over, and scooped the halfling into his arms. She laughed as he did so. "Silly Cala! It's not about winning or losing! It's about having fun and spending time with the ones you love."_

"_You love me El?"_

"_With my entire heart, Cal."_

"_Will you love me forever, El?" _

"_For even longer than that."_

Drago came back to herself with a start. Reeling from the dream. It had been a very long time, since she had dreamed of any of them.

Picking herself up, she began to repack for the road. It was time to go home. She needed to. Before she changed her mind and rode back to Minas Tirith.

...

"What did she look like?"

"A simple maid, my King." The first one spoke.

"Blonde hair. Small stature." Said the second one.

The first spoke. "And golden brown eyes. Her features were very… odd."

Aragorn looked to Arwen, who nodded her head in confirmation.

You are dismissed, and excused from your duties. I expect you to be well rested and at your post within a day's time.

"Yes my King." They rose, a bit unsteadily, from their kneeled position, and left the room.

"I knew he was not a mere farm boy. I should have -"

"Done what, Melamin? You could not change this. And it is not your fault." She slowly stroked his cheek. "Be patient. Things will turn out as they should."

"What if I don't want this to turn out as it should."

"Estel!"

He chuckled, and cupped her face within his hands. Carefully, Aragorn cradled the she-elf's face. She closed her eyes at his touch.

"Nana!" The side door creaked open.

Husband and wife stepped away with a rueful smile.

"Darling there is no reason to shout so." Said Arwen, to her youngest child.

Bellethiel ignored this statement, and stomped her way across the room. "Where is she?"

"Where is who? Dearest one." Neither parent had ever seen their daughter act in such a way.

"Cala!" Cried Bellethiel. tears in her eyes. "My sister! Where is my sister?"

Aragorn and Arwen froze. It was a name they hadn't heard in years. It was an old wound. Deep and powerful.

"When did you see Caladwen?" Eldarion asked from the doorway. Happening upon the commotion, just in time to hear Bellethiel's last cry.

"Last night." Bellethiel sniffed and wiped at the tears trailing down her cheeks. "I was sleeping and she woke me. She said, she had come from very far, just to see me."

Elessar walked over to his youngest and kneeled down to look in her eyes. "Bellethiel. You must tell us everything she said. Tell us what she looked like. Did she touch you? Did she hurt you? Did she have you take anything?" his grip on her shoulder was tight.

Bellethiels gray eyes looked at him in wonder."Ada, why do you not trust Cala?"

"I am not so sure that it was Caladwen, child."

"Of course it was!" her smile was blinding.

"Please darling," Arwen kneeled before her daughter also. Please tell us all that happened."

The princess shrugged. "She let me touch her hair. Then she told me a story."

"A story?" Eldarion moved to sit upon the stone steps of the throne room.

She nodded her head enthusiastically. "A story! About a princess and an evil dragon; who stole her from her home in the dark of the night, to make her a part of his horde of treasure. I'm not as good at telling the tale as Cala."

"Just tell us the important parts." Aragorn urged feeling apprehension, from the story already.

She nodded and continued. "Years passed. And the princess became old enough to realize, that no one was going to come rescue her from the evil dragon. So she- Nana, don't cry!"

Arwen Evenstar was upon the floor, her face in her hands. Silent sobs racking her frame. Aragorns face was grim, as he ran his hand soothingly upon her back.

"Ada! Why is Nana crying? Nana! Don't worry; the story is not so bad. She becomes free from the dragon."

"And how does the princess do this?" Eldarion spoke. His tone was ever the same. Calm and distant.

"The princess used a spell and trapped the dragon. He and his kind will never harm a soul again! See naneth! It is a good ending."

Arwen lifted her head and gave her youngest a watery smile. "If you will excuse me. I wish to retire."

Bellethiel stared after her mother in wonder.

"What color of hair did she have, Bellethiel?"

She shifted her attention back to her ada. "Gold." She sighed. "As the stars shined upon it. Oh ada! It was such beautiful hair."

"Do you remember anything else Belle? What she was wearing? The color of her eyes?"

"Gold, El. Her eyes were gold."

"Was she dressed as a maid?" Aragorn's voice held a certain edge to it.

She paused to remember. "…yes."

King Elessar and Prince Eldarion both stood. They knew what they had to do.

Eldarion left the room to send a missive to Faramir.

Aragorn called for a guard.

"Find Legolas Greenleaf, and Gimli son of Gloin. I will be waiting for them here, in the throne room. Oh, and have Lady Melda come and fetch Bellethiel.

"Ada, does this mean I'll get to see Cala soon?"

Aragorn turned to his young daughter, and took her into is arms. "I cannot be sure. But I will try with all I have in me, to bring her home, so she may live with us all."

Bellethiel smiled as her father tucked her wild hair behind her ear. In turn, she reached up to pull his forward. Aragorn laughed.

Her ada would do it. He would bring Cala home. For in a child's mind there is no force stronger than a father.

...

Drago had come to a conclusion. Six days of riding, did nothing for your body. She was glad that she had made it to Harondor. She needed a good nights rest. She was staying at an old inn for the night. And at the present, enjoying a nice warm bath. Leaning her head back, Drago let herself submerge into the tub. Her head the last to go under.

When she was younger, she used to pretend to be a mermaid. She would stay under for as long as she could. As if trying to make it real. Now she just found it relaxing.

She was excited to be so close to home. She would have ridden straight through, if it hadn't been for Alagos. Her poor horse was exhausted.

She felt a sense of relief that she hadn't been caught while in Gondor. Were the people of Gondor really so slow?

Feeling her air deplete, Drago broke from the water. She decided she was clean enough. The blonde grabbed her towel and made ready for bed. Sleep was something she was looking forward to.

* * *

><p>This is the redone version.<p>

Once again, let me know what you think. That means review. :P


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys! Happy New Year!

Sorry about the wait. There have been some technical difficulties going on. but I promise the next chapter will be out a lot faster!

I want to thank everyone for all the reviews and putting my story on your favorites list. And also, putting it on your alerts. Its very flattering! I'm so happy your enjoying it!

Down at the bottom of the chapter, I'll be answering to your reviews. Please be sure to let me know if you see any mistakes. I'll try my best to correct them. I had to rewrite this chapter a few times and change the story plot. But now I'm pretty sure I know where its going. Please let me know if its consistent with the last two chapters.

* * *

><p>"You're late Drago." Lord Durion's tone was condescending, as usual.<p>

The blonde Thief rolled her eyes. "Well then, you will just have to find another to run your errands for you."

Durion's brow lifted before he turned back to his scrolls. Scrawling away at something. "Where is it?"

"I misplaced it." Drago turned from the Dark Elf and proceeded towards his collection of books and scrolls. She passed her hands over a few, sensing the darkness that clung to them. Some small part inside of her relished the feel.

His tone was ever the same. "I'm not in the disposition for such sport, Locien."

"Do not call me that!" She spun around to face the man she hated more than the darkness within her. Reaching down her shirt, she grabbed the brooch and chucked it onto his desk. With that done she stormed out of his study.

"Drago." He called from the open door.

She paused.

"Wash, eat, and be back here to inform me of your journey. Also, I have a new task for you. You will be informed of the details, when you return."

Shaking with rage, Drago ran for the outside. Running into the light, she felt her spirits improve. This was the feeling that she had been longing for. The wind blew sand and heat into her face. As if to say, "Welcome home!" She smiled.

"Drago!" Cried a voice. It was low, deep, and even a little scratchy. But it still somehow, sounded feminine.

Lois. She was the only one with such a voice.

Drago turned to her right. Down the way, her comrades were waving and laughing. It looked like some of them had already been to the Tower. (A local tavern.) A genuine grin lit her face. She walked towards them. "So I see you've been having fun without me."

"Without you Drago? Never!" Bjarne the big bear he was, leaned himself against Hamas and Erynion. His large arms tightened around their shoulders. Erynion was grimacing. While Hamas slightly tipsy himself, laughed.

Lois clapped a hand on Dragos shoulder. Drago grabbed her arm in return. They both stepped away to watch their companions antics.

Lois stood at six feet. Her limbs were large, like Bjarne. Her skin so dark it seemed brown. Her hair was black and curly. Cut short to her scalp to make fighting a little less difficult. She had black eyes and a white smile. She was a Warrior. As was Bjarne. They did best in close combat. Slinging axes and swords. Or fists. They also were from Haradwaith. They grew up closer to the borders of Umbar in the jungle near Far Harad.

Erynion was an Archer, a Hunter, and their lookout. Being a young Dark Elf, his post suited him. He was one of the few Moriquendi that Drago was fond of.

Hamas was an Assassin. He dealt with poisons as well as all types of blades. He also dabbled in enchantment.

Drago was a Thief and Spy. She was a master of charades. She could also talk herself out of any situation. She didn't have magic like Hamas. But she did have her own.

Drago had been eleven winters, when she had come walking into this small, dry village. She had barely finished her alteration. And had come out of the underground cave, to search for life. It had been her first time in seeing the outside world in many years. Her younger self and been tired and half dead, when she had finally come upon the village.

Lois had been the one to approach her. She had been twenty-three at the time. She had given her food and drink. Had bathed and clothed her. She had even rubbed healing salve upon her wounds. Drago owed Lois thanks in many things.

Later on, Drago had been taken to Durion. Who knew immediately, what she was. He took in Drago and trained her as he did the others. He taught them all, the hideous craft of darkness.

Drago was no fool. She knew even back then what Durion wanted from her. Knew he wanted a war. Knew he worked under an even darker force. But she couldn't bring herself to care. She was the very darkness she had feared and hated all those years. Nothing really mattered any longer.

But she had found herself caring on her last errand. Found the memories of the light plaguing her mind. Drago frowned. She had been able to suppress such memories for years. She hoped they ceased to continue. It would make her work difficult. After all, she was to clash in battle against her own adar one day. For some reason that thought had her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

Drago was brought back to herself by a hand gently clasping her shoulder.

"You left us Drago." Lois murmured.

She sighed. "Yes, I suppose I did."

"We will meet you boys later tonight at the Tower." Lois squeezed her shoulder again.

"You're leaving me with these two?" Erynion looked betrayed.

Drago laughed. "Be sure to take fine care of them Erynion." She and Lois walked away. Aware he was considering the best form of extraction.

"Now little girl," Lois slung an arm around Drago's shoulders before pulling her close. "tell me all the details. Were they everything you dreamed them to be?"

Lois and Drago talked about her family in the white city. About the bitterness and hurt she felt, about her dreams of light. While they talked Drago bathed and ate. Lois helped her deal with her minor scrapes and bruises. Rubbing salve where it was needed.

"He was testing you, you know."

"I know." Drago lay still on the bed, as Lois dealt with the blisters on her foot.

"He wanted to see if you would come ba-child, I swear you always find a way to hurt yourself!" Lois had found her two disfigured toes. She had broken them sometime when she was in Minas Tirith. she could not recall how.

Drago smiled. "How else are we to have these moments?"

Lois gave her a distant smile.

"What are you thinking of?" her foot had been wrapped, and Lois had started on her toes. Drago wasn't very worried though. They would right themselves in time.

"You, when you first arrived here." Lois's smiled in fondness of the memory. "When I first laid eyes on you, I thought you lifeless. I recall asking you something. You just gazed straight through me."

Yes, Drago remembered that day with perfect clarity.

"All those times that you came to me, to heal your wounds. And not just the physical…" Lois sighed. Drago sat up. Lois's countenance had dimmed considerably.

"Drago, little girl, you know I love you. I see you as my own child. But I will not be around forever."

Drago reeled back in shock. The look on her face was guarded. "You're not going to die Lois."

"Maybe not soon. But one day I will."

"And I will deal with that when it comes. Do not make me ponder on it now. I want to enjoy our time together." Drago lay back down. Once again she cursed the creature she had become. Was this the why the elves left to the Undying Lands? So they not have to face the sorrow of watching a beloved friend die?

"It is finished." Lois stood from the bed.

"Thanks Lo." Drago clothed herself quickly. "I have to go report to Lord Durion before he sends the leeches for me." She proceeded to tie her short golden hair back.

"They have a name other then leeches." Lois laughed

"Yes and that's blood witches. Wicked things. The way they look at me makes my scales itch."

"They make all of your kind uneasy."

"Can you fault us? They are leeches! Do you see my kind using blood to call forth power and magic?"

Lois rolled her eyes and tossed her a clean headscarf.

"You going to see them tonight?"

"Most likely." mumbled Drago, tying her scarf.

"We will be at the Tower when you get back. Do not keep us waiting."

And Drago was out the door.

...

"Haradwaith, Adar."

"And you are sure?"Aragorn smiled at the look Eldarion gave him across the table.

"I stopped sensing the Elessar the moment it hit the Harad border. They must have some kind of magic Adar."

"An ancient one, at that." Murmured Aragorn. His fingers ran across the land of Harad on the map before him. 'So close. Would he get this chance?'

"So you were tracking her through the Elfstone?" Asked Faramir. standing next to Eldarion.

Eldarion nodded. "I can't track people. At least, not yet. But I can track items."

"Mighty good power. Very handy." Said Gimli, grabbing his drink of ale.

Eldarion turned to his father. "Adar, what do you propose?"

"We set up watch on the roads." Aragorn pointed to the different locations the watch would be. "If she comes out again, it is less than likely she will have the Elessar with her. This will be our only way to track her."

He turned to the Elf beside him. "Legolas, would your elves be willing?"

"I cannot spare many, but what I can is yours dear friend."

Aragorn nodded in gratitude. A look of relief upon his face. With elf eyes, she would be that much easier to find.

"Aragorn," Legolas warned, in Elvish. "Be prepared, for she is not the child she once was."

Aragorn looked at him. Guilt and hurt shined out through his eyes. "I know." He murmured. "I know."

...

The young thief was in a foul mood. And she expressed it, by childishly stomping her way up the sand dune.

"New task indeed!" she growled. Durion was getting too confident in his hold on her.

To have her involve the Clan! He had never done such before. Durion not only wanted them to participate in the battle but to supply dragon's blood so that the armor was near invincible. She would not allow her clan to bleed for his filthy war. They had argued a large amount of time, before Durion decided to give her a few days to think it over. Drago snorted at the thought. She had made her choice. He could not change it. Her clan would have no part in this war. She would make certain of it. Though how, she did not know.

Sighing, Drago stood at the top of the dune. Looking to the east, she'd spied the Golden Mountain. Now if she could just find the door. For some reason she always had the hardest time finding the entrance. It seemed to change every time she came. One time it had even been at the high peak of the mountain.

She suspected that some of the elders did this. They took great joy in teasing her because of her age. And they were the only ones who knew she could not yet fly.

"Lord Locien!"

Drago held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, as she stretched them across the way.

Iravidion, or as she liked to call him, Avid; was standing at the bottom of the dune. He looked excited at her arrival. His fiery red hair was short against his head but just long enough to be teased by the wind. His body was bulky and muscular. Even more so than Bjarne. Red dragons usually looked as such in their human guise. She gave a light wave and slid her way down the dune.

"Lord." Avid gave an extravagant half bow. He then grabbed her in a fierce embrace.

"Tis good to see you as well, Avid." Drago said with a laugh. He pulled away with a sheepish smile.

But his embarrassment was forgotten within the next moment. "The twins breathed fire!" He exclaimed. The Pride in his eyes had Drago grinning.

The 'twins' were Avid's hatchlings. Bronah and Bronar. They were over four hundred years now. Still children on all accounts. Though still older than her. She still wondered how a child of eleven had become the Lord of the Dessert Clan. And even though the Elders still treated her like a new hatchling; the others treated her as if she was the oldest and wisest of them all. She could not fly. Nor could she breathe anything. Though that hadn't stopped her from killing a few dragons who chose to oppose her new rule.

"Congratulations friend!" She jumped into his arms and laughed as he crushed her to him.

She pulled herself out of his arms. He kissed her cheek in affection. "Now take me to Naoir. I'm sure she has a mouth full for me."

"Does she not always?" Avid grinned.

...

"So the Dark Elf wants to use our blood to strengthen his armor." Drago watched from her seat, as Naoir shook her head in wonderment. "What a fool he is. Though you are more the fool to still be under his thumb. Do you not think it is time to cut off your ties with him." it wasn't a question. Naoir's violet eyes were sharp on her. Drago resisted the urge to squirm.

Naoir spoke again. "And so you will face against your father in this war? You will slay him, will you? What of your mother and brother? Your younger sister? You will slaughter your own family?"

Drago shook her head meekly. "I do not wish for that, Elder. But I also don't want the family I have here to die."

"You must make a choice Locien. You cannot avoid this for long. Stealing the Elessar has brought you even further into this war."

"What is it you speak of?"

"You know what I speak of. You are not yet incompetent Rasvim."

Drago sighed in frustration. She did not know. But that was a focus for another time. "How am I to turn my back on the South? How am I to leave my abode to go to a place that has no guarantee of family, comfort, or acceptance? How am I to look into the face of my naneth and tell her that the child she remembers is no more! I am darkness Naoir! They are made of light!"

Naoir gazed at Drago, the look in her eyes revealed an old sadness. She moved across the room to a tapestry that hung upon the stone wall at the far back. On it was a picture of a brave knight dressed in the armor of the elves; slaying a ferocious black dragon. Naoir began to stroke the dragon in a loving manner. "You think our kind a monster. Tis true, we originated from shadows. But we made a choice to leave that black abyss. We chose a life of seclusion and peace. Others of our kind have not and so the humans and elves have hunted us. This does not mean we are not creatures capable of great good, Locien. "

"Are we capable!" Drago stood from her seat. Naoir churned at her outburst. Her attention ripped away from the tapestry. "All I can ever feel is this hunger, Naoir! This vice in me! You do not know how it felt, to be in the white city and feel nothing but pain from the light around me! Pain and shame!"

"Ah…" The Dragon Elder's eyes took on a knowing light. "So that is it. You are running away from your responsibility Rasvim. Like dog with its tail tucked between its legs. You fear the rejection from your people. From your family. You hate that you are different from them."

Drago bristled at the thought. She growled her denial, as Naoir laughed.

"You are still very much a child Locien. But it is time you grow up. Think on my words. We will discuss this again at our next meet."

Bowing Drago left the room in haste. She hated and loved Naoir. Though the love was usually greater. This time she was feeling more hate. 'Who is she to call me a coward?' Thought the young Dragon Lord, as she briskly made her way through the dark cave halls. 'She did not have to make this choice!' Only Drago did. And what a choice it was.

...

"From above, Drago!"

The lost princess looked up just in time to see a large figure drop right onto her. Forcing her smaller form under water. Kicking whoever it was that had dropped upon her, Drago swam to the surface. Pushing water and hair out of her eyes, she turned to watch Bjarne surface. A mischievous smile upon his face.

She laughed. "You bear!" Drago was used to the ruff behavior of her adopted family. In fact she loved it. "Hamas!" She cried. Bjarne looked a little scared as Hamas swam towards him. But he then laughed in good humor and swam away. Hamas gave chase. Drago followed his lead. Lois was sitting on a large rock. Feet swishing back and forth in the water. Her eyes twinkled in amusement as she watched Hamas push Bjarne's head under the water.

Life was satisfying. If through all the bad times she could have these small moments with the ones she loved, she would be happy for all her days. Though, Drago was not sure that these moments would last. A foreboding had settled upon her ever since her talk with Noir. She only hoped that she could keep the ones she cherished safe.

...

Legolas was never one to give into melancholy, but it seemed to have been slowly creeping upon him since his visit to Minas Tirith. For some reason the call of the sea had strengthened since his return to Ithilien. Shaking his resolve to stay until Aragorn's passing. He was a bit selfish; he concluded. As he leaned his arms against the stone railing, on the terrace of his guestroom. He resided in Prince Faramir's residence stationed within the hills of Emyn Arnen.

Thinking of leaving to the Undying Lands, while one of his closest friends searched desperately for his lost daughter, was a bit selfish. But only a bit. For one could not ignore the call forever. He had wondered time and again why he remained the only one of his people who longed to cross the sea. He hoped his father would join him one day. The elf prince was shaken out of his thoughts as a hand grasped his shoulder. Legolas turned, already knowing who it was that called for his attention.

Faramir nodded giving Legolas a strained smile. "My rangers have traveled as far as the borders of Haradwaith they stay in a village near the Harad road in harondor."

Legolas nodded. "Very well. I will send some of my own to patrol the Harad road."

"Let them know it's a dangerous terrain. It changes climate so fast you are not even sure you've let a breath escape, before you are thrown into a land of heat so scorching you think you have traveled into the fires of mount doom." Faramir shrugged. "Or so say my men."

The blue-grey eyed elf gave a half smile. But it was soon gone as he read the look in his friend's eyes. "You worry about the task we have been given." He straightened himself and maneuvered his body more toward Faramir. Letting him know through his body language, that he encouraged Faramir's say.

"Not the task." Faramir sighed and leaned against the railing not very different from the way Legolas had only moments before. Looking to the clear night's sky, he felt his spirits rise. If only a little. "I fear for the king and his family. I fear that the expectations they have will not be met. That instead of closure, they will receive agonizing heartbreak."

Legolas hummed his understanding. "She will not be the same child she was. That is clear. Even to Aragorn. Though I fear he is not ready for what he may find as well. But there is hope that good may come from this."

"Yes." Sighed Faramir. "It is hope that keeps us going through all things. Frail as we are. I believe if we were to have none, then the race of men would have been destroyed. I believe it is King Elessar's hope that gave us victory over Mordor's darkness. And even now as we work to rebuild the world that has been brutally affronted; I believe it is that mans hope that keeps us going. But losing your child not once, but twice. It is enough to shatter any mans hope."

"We can never be sure of the strength of another. So we must have hope good friend. Hope that Aragorn is strong and that his child will be brought back to him in elevated conditions."

Faramir straightened, his gaze meeting Legolas's. "You speak true. Here I am conversing about, how without hope we would parish and yet I have none." He gave a laugh and changed the subject. "When do you depart?"

"Dawn. I mean to travel with them." His gaze drifted to the direction his kin resided at.

The Prince of Ithilien clapped his shoulder and made to take his leave. "I will send a missive to the king. Inform us when you reach the Harondor border."

Legolas did not trouble with a reply. Knowing that Faramir was by now, not within hearing distance.

Letting a broad smile grace his fine features; the golden haired elf looked to the stars and sang a song of the sea and the gull's call.

...

"What is it you needed Durion?" Drago stepped into his study. This wasn't a place she particularly loved. She was impatient to get back to her room. She could feel the blood witches nearby and it was making her on edge. She was torn between going after them or running as far as she could. She was fine with staying as far away as possible. "Shut the door and come in further."

She did his biding, walking over to the large writing desk. He sat where he always did. Scribing away about some needless research no doubt. He smiled and looked up to her. "Good, good." he studied her for a moment. What he found seemed to amuse him. "I want to arrange a meeting with your elders and my lord." She gave him a sharp look. "No." She breathed out. She could feel her composure unraveling."Drago," He began."No!" she was louder this time. "You keep my clan out of this war! You can do whatever you want with me but you leave them alone! You keep your filthy leeches away from them!" she slammed her hands on the desk. Glaring at him.

He glared back. "You let them know, that the King of the Moriquendi wishes an audience with them. It's for your elders to decide Drago. Not you." 'that's what you think.' "Now get your filthy claws off of my desk. In fact, leave."She gave his desk a swift kick. Papers flew in the air as she walked away. She could hear Durion's cursing half way out of the building. She smiled in satisfaction. But that smile fell quickly. She wondered just how far Durion would go to have her clan fight in this war.

...

"The Elder Naoir and Elder Suaco have agreed to an audience with the leader of the Moriquendi." Avid stood in front of Durions desk. No longer wearing the joyous expression that he did when around Drago. Now he was her second. Strong, determined, and dangerous. She understood why he was chosen as her heir. His commitment to life and the Clan took her breath away. She also understood why the Elders wanted them to mate. It would be a good match. But she was not a born Dragon. Dragons didn't mate for love. But to her, there had to be more than instincts. She supposed it was the Elf in her. "The Elders have said they will not allow the witches in the Golden Halls. If you are to come you may bring a few men. But the leeches stay behind."

"Very well. And how shall we find this Golden Mountain?"

"I and the one you know as Drago will lead you. Call on your Dark King. Tell him we meet the Elders in seven days." He turned ignoring her as planned, and walked out the door. She heard him growl as a Blood Witch passed him in the hall. She in turn hissed and hurried past him.

"He has the same earring as you?"She turned her attention back to Durion. "It means a potential match. The Elders have deemed us a good fit." "Does that mean you'll be mated to him?" he seemed genuinely curious. She sighed. "Not unless we wish it. They cannot force us.""Then why are you still wearing the ear trinket?""Because we have not declined the proposal, but nor have we acknowledged it. Until we do, we wear the earrings.""You Dragons and your culture. Not a lot of people know about it. But when you do, you realize why. Quite uncivilized." "No better then you elves." she didn't take offence. Dragons were uncivilized. But people expected dragons to be creatures related to men. Elves, Dwarfs, Hobbits, and Men shared a lot of common traits. But dragons were made to be wild beasts. Not to be men. Though they were made with a mind and power above the rest of the beasts. Yes even above that of eagles. For dragons could adapt they could change forms and blend in with the times. They did so much now, that the people of middle earth thought them to be dead. Even the Elves had been fooled. "Is he to stay?""No."He nodded his head and motioned for her to leave. She did so gladly. She hated Elves. She hated Blood Witches even more. She gave a growl and snapped her teeth at one of the leeches passing by. "Rasvim." Chuckled Avid. Waiting for her at the entryway.

"What did you take?" She asked as she came closer."Something shiny." he turned to walk out of the stone enclosure. She snorted walking in step with him. "Of course it was something shiny, else you would not have taken it." He chuckled again, and pulled the trinket out of his breast pocket. What he held made Drago hiss.

"Put it away, quick!"He did so. "What possessed you to take that out of all the items in his study!"Avid smirked. "It was the most valuable."

Drago snickered. "So what are you going to do?"

"Use it."

"Are you mad!" Whispered Drago, grabbing onto his arm. Stopping him from walking any further "You open that catacomb and who knows what you could unleash!"

Avid snorted. "Like unspeakable evil. Oh wait! The leeches are already free."Drago let out a full laugh. Not being able to control herself.

"Come on Rasvim." whispered her second. He leaned so close that she could feel his searing dragon's breath caress her face. To most it would have been uncomfortable. But Drago relished in the heat. "You must wonder what he keeps in there. Those catacombs have been closed to all but a select few in all the years you have been here."

He spoke truth. Drago had wondered, ever since she was first shown the catacombs, what lay in them. There was a darkness that reeked from that place. Black and more malevolent, than even that of the former Dragon Lord.

"Only a glance." She whispered. Watching a smug grin creep upon his face at her words. "We look and go. No more than that."

Avid slung his arm around her shoulder and began to walk. "Then we will meet outside the stables at nightfall. I look forward to this adventure, my Lord."

* * *

><p>Estel Star-Kindler : Thank you for your review! I did go back and try to fix the punctuation. Hopefully it's a bit better than it was. I also tried to pay better attention to it in this chapter. Please let me know if I'm getting it or not. Cuz I suck at punctuation.<p>

Umm : Thank you for your reviews! When I started writing this fanfic, I went to see how many daughters Aragorn had. It stated that no one knew how many. It just said daughters. So I just put two. But you never know. A third one could bring on a whole new story at some point! Thank you again for your reviews! They made me very happy! And I'm sorry it took so long to update!

MortalKombatProdigy99: Thank you for your review!

Miss No-name : Thank you for your review! Heres your update! Sorry it took so long.

Anathea13 : Your review made my day as well! Thank you so much for it! I hope you liked this chapter.

Mystical Blue Fire : Your review gave me such an ego boost! Thank you! I hope you continue to hold this story in high esteem.

Alice Williams : Thank you for your review! That's got to be one of the greatest compliments a writer can get! Thanks so much!

I'm really glad you guys like this story so far! I already have a sequel planned. Please let me know what you think and I'll get the next chapter up as fast as I can! Happy New Year!


End file.
